Letters To My Mate

Chapter Twenty-Two

TWENTY-TWO

I pulled out the emergency phone that Seb had given me (after much protest from me, though) and refreshed the messages. Why had he not text me? Is this phone working? I would never know how to work a phone as there are so many different buttons and applications and I was still struggling to figure out how to lock and unlock the phone. But I needed this phone – I wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital or my father would find out about Ethan and Sebastian… I couldn’t let him hurt them.

Seb had given me this phone so that he could text me how Ethan is doing; I still was unaware of the condition he was in. What if they couldn’t save him as his injuries were so bad? They need to save him. I don’t know what I would do without Ethan in my life and I haven’t even met him yet. Maybe I should just sneak out and go to the hospital…

I looked at my alarm clock and saw the time was one in the afternoon; my father would be going out soon. Usually on Saturday afternoons my father would go out with his friends and then come home on the Sunday night but I could go out and be back for five or six in case he decided to come home a day early. Okay. I’m going to ‘meet’ Ethan today. Well, I don’t know if he is even awake or not or if they are allowing visitors but I will see him in person for the first time.

Scanning through the small number of clothes I have in my wardrobe I picked out an oversized, plain grey jumper and a pair of light blue jeans that I kept in the back of the wardrobe for special occasions – they were the one pair of jeans that did not have any rips or stains on and looked suitable. I placed them under the pillow on my mattress and walked slowly down the stairs, careful not to make too much noise.

I see my father sat in the lounge, staring blankly at the television screen on which a documentary about cars and racing was being shown. He had a beer clutched in his right hand and his left hand was resting on his knee, clenched into a fist; he was probably not watching the documentary as he looked lost in thought. I don’t think I would ever want to know what went on inside of his mind.

Without disturbing him, I crept into the kitchen and searched through the cupboards in order to find something to make him for lunch. Finding no bread of any kind, I decided to make him pasta with pesto – something I remember my mother teaching me how to make. About twenty minutes later I dished up a portion and put the remaining pasta into the fridge before taking a can of beer and the pasta into the living room.

My father turned his head in my direction, taking his attention away from the television as I walked slowly towards him. Like usual, I did not dare to look into his eyes and kept my gaze on the pasta I was carrying. I placed it down on the coffee table in front of him and nodded stiffly, taking a step back as he reached out for the dish. In my peripheral vision I saw him pick up the fork off of the plate and lift some pasta to his mouth. My father looked up at me before taking a bite so I quickly looked down at my shoes, unable to see him any longer. I bit my lip, flinching as he growled after a minute had passed. Before I could even comprehend what had happened, the plate was flying towards me. I ducked my head, causing the china plate to crash against the wall directly behind me; if I hadn’t of moved, that would have hit me on my head.

“What is this?!” He yelled, crushing an empty can in his hand as he stood up from the couch.

“It’s your l-lunch, Sir.” I replied timidly.

“You are useless! You should be able to cook better than this shit!”

My eyes shot open in both shock and fear as he made his way over to me in a rage. I took small steps backwards, not taking my eyes off of his figure as he bounded towards me. I tried to dodge what I knew was coming but I was not fast enough as I felt the stinging sensation on my cheek, signalling that he had slapped me. His large, strong hands clasped around my neck and I felt the breath leave my lungs without returning due to his vice-like grip. When I felt like I was going to pass out he let go and kicked me in the shins, causing me to collapse onto the ground. I choked and breathed in heavily and tried to ignore the gnawing pain around my neck.